The Seventh Avenger - (Marvel x OC)

CH 3.0 The Misfits

"So...what's scribbled on the stick that six inches up your ass?" Marc Spector turned to Andrew Williams in the helicopter they were riding over South America in.

"I said it's nothing, Marc" Andrew muttered, leaning back in his seat without his usual perky and, if you asked Marc, annoying attitude.

"Fine" Marc groaned and went back to cleaning his pistol. "I'm not about to waste energy pryin' it outta you."

"Fifteen minutes out" the pilot's warbled voice spoke through shaky communications.

"Tell me where we're going."

The irritable Marc sighed, beginning to grow tired of whatever was wrong with his friend. "A safehouse...or home for the next couple days if you prefer."

"Are you going to keep me in the dark the whole mission?"

"We're here to kill a bad man" Marc put on a fake smile through his sarcasm.

"Don't bullshit me" Andrew scowled.

"He's a mercenary, alright?" Marc snapped back. "He does horrible things to people who don't deserve it...and we're gonna stop him."

Silence swept through the helicopter. Andrew held on the side and leaned out of the opening, taking in the small city below him. The buildings were incredibly close together but most were in good condition. It was the foliage that caught his eye. Everything was so unbelievably green to his eyes. After seeing desert and pavement for the last few years, this was a breath of literal fresh air. Maybe he'd travel more...see the world without a war. Truthfully, he'd do anything to never see Rosamond again.

The helicopter landed gradually and Marc hopped out bringing his bags with him as Andrew followed.

"This guy have a name?" Andrew asked, wanting to know more.

"Bushman..."

Andrew counted the supplies and weapons in his pack one more time before zipping it up and slinging it over his shoulder. He left money on the table for Rebecca to use and walked to his front door. Andrew swung it open and nearly walked into Maria Rambeau, still in her black dress from the funeral and her daughter, Monica, in her arms.

"Daddy!" The tiny Monica exclaimed joyfully.

"Hi" Maria spoke shakily. "Can we talk?"

"I have to go" Andrew replied quickly and walked past Maria.

"It won't take long" Maria pleaded. "I just...really need to talk to somebody who can...understand."

"I have to leave now, Maria" Andrew spoke angrily as he shut the back car door aggressively. "Go find somebody else."

"Daddy?" Monica whimpered pitifully.

Andrew ignored her and got into the car. Not looking at either of them as he began backing out of the driveway.

"Where going?" Monica looked up at her mother with a depressing quivering bottom lip.

"I don't know, hon" Maria sighed, her voice almost breaking. "He's...sad."

"Help him?" Monica questioned, wanting to be with the man she'd always trusted as her father.

"No, baby" Maria gently kissed Monica's head. "We can't..."

"You good?" Marc asked, noticing Andrew seemed lost in thought.

"It's nothing" Andrew replied after forcing himself out of the memory of what happened just before he left for this mission. "What time are we heading out?" Andrew asked as he changed into more comfortable clothes for sleeping.